Enclosed Perimeters (Yandere M. x F. Reader)

The scorching afternoon sun baked the cement sidewalks of Gasper Drive, a silent testament to the summer's oppressive grip. Few dared to venture out, but (F/n) (L/n) was an exception, her attire a practical shield against the heat. A white v-neck, beige shorts, and flip-flops adorned her, her (h/c) hair loose, and (e/c) eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses.

On her left wrist, a pale green wristwatch read noon, a quiet chime against the stillness. A pale green backpack, adorned with a quirky voodoo doll keychain, rested on her back. She smiled faintly, shaking her head as squirrels, momentarily visible, scurried back into their woody homes at her approach. Their shyness was understandable; intentions were unseen, and this was their domain.

Her destination, Nathan’s house, was just a few blocks away, a small mercy in the sweltering heat. The thought of a thousand dollars for two weeks of house-sitting was a powerful motivator, an investment in her college funds and the promising art career that shimmered on the horizon. Nathan, her parents’ eccentric antique-collecting friend, had left just hours ago, or so he claimed. Regardless, he was gone, and the house was hers to watch.

With a soft click, the spare key turned in the lock. The front door swung inward, revealing a cool, shadowed interior. She stepped inside, the oppressive heat instantly receding behind her, replaced by the hushed stillness of an old house. The air was thick with the scent of aged wood and faint dust, a silent invitation to the next chapter of her summer.

Closing and locking the door behind her, the soft thud echoed slightly in the quiet. She pulled back the dark grey curtains in the living room, allowing the afternoon light to flood the space, chasing away the lingering shadows. The house felt vast, empty, and strangely expectant.